Tales of the Shattered Moon: Unexpected Questions
by Darthkvzn
Summary: Children tend to be very curious. Pyrrha has a lot of experience with that. That this particular question wasn't asked sooner should've been a hint. Future!Fic, Used to be a oneshot, will be continued with individual stories in this same AU.


**Hello! Welcome to another oneshot in my Tales of the Shattered Moon series. This idea came to me randomly just as I was about to sleep, and I couldn't help but start it. It helped that Aegis-Story pushed me in the right direction. A word of warning, though. Some violence _does_ happen. I like to think, however, that this is one of my better works. So please, enjoy! - Darthkvzn**

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><p>-"Grandma, why does grandpa have a metal arm?<p>

In all her years, Pyrrha Nikos had never had a more difficult time answering a question. It's not that it was a particularly hard one, actually. Her first daughter's puberty had seen to that. The three girls that followed were easier to answer to, and the boy, surprisingly, even more so.

It was an innocent enough question, albeit one that brough about painful memories and strong feelings. Her eldest grandchild was at that stage where she questioned everything. Young Arella had a luscious mane of strawberry gold hair, the Arc genes slowly but surely purifying Pyrrha's once vibrant red locks. She was as clumsy as her mom, Lyra, Pyrrha's eldest daughter, but she also had her grandpa's charming personality. Lyra Arc had fully inherited her mother's looks, but none of her natural talent for combat. She was kind, patient and funny. Great with cooking, too, so she was basically the female equivalent of her father. She was currently staying at the Arc Manor, heavily pregnant with her second girl, yet to be named. The Arc curse, Jaune would joke; with 4 daughters, 3 granddaughters and only one son, it was commonly joked that only the last member of a generation was destined to be male. Judging by Jacques being her last child, and Jaune being the youngest of his own generation, there might be some truth to that. Pyrrha was secretly thankful. Oh, she loved her little boy, alright, but neither she nor her darling husband knew very well how to handle young males.

Speaking of which, a glaring question required answering. The Arc patriarch was napping silently in a plush sofa, the object of Arella's curiousity shining faintly on the man's right side due to the mood lighting, matte gold in color with dark red details along where the muscle definition would be. Jaune had aged well, sporting a perfectly groomed white-gold beard and hair and having kept himself in shape for the last 60 years at least. Pyrrha had kept herself in great shape, too, though her joints nagged her, a painful reminder of the many battles she'd participated in, no more than a dozen years ago. She pursed her lips before answering.

-"Well, little one, that is a mark of his bravery, and proof of the love he's always had for his family and the people he loves." –she said slowly, and with a hint of pride in her voice. The toddler was smart, and while the full meaning of her statement may have eluded her, she was determined to continue her quest for answers. Arc and Nikos blood ran through her veins, and their determination was literally legendary. Lyra must have her hands full these days, Pyrrha thought, grudgingly respectful.

-"Was it because of the fighting? I've seen the pictures that mommy has in her room of Aunt Nora and Uncle Ren together with you on the ships with all your shiny armor! Mommy says you got rid of the Grimm! –she said, excitedly.

-"Creatures of Grimm, Arella. Remember your lessons. You are almost correct, youngling. Jaune's arm was lost to the dark ones, yes, but this took place before we could actually fight back against the shadows, the first time they struck with all their might. It is not a story to be told lightly, and certainly not for the faint of heart." –she warned, trying to stave off the curious girl.

-"Oh, grandma, please, please, please tell me the story! I'm not gonna faint in the heart, I promise! I'll even shush for you all the time, ok?" –she pleaded, putting a finger over her lips to signify she really meant it.

"Faint in the heart"? Oh, well. Close enough. Never let it be said that this grandmother didn't spoil her grandkids rotten.

-"Very well, my dear. You are an Arc, after all. I'm sure you are old enough to hear this story. Settle down, listen carefully and do not interrupt. It all began when we were not much younger than your own mother…"

_57 YEARS AGO_

Had this not been the end of the world, Pyrrha would be jumping up and down with happiness.

Two years ago, the dense blonde that had caught her attention had finally accepted that he may or may not have grown to return her feelings. Last week, with a year in Beacon still to go, he'd proposed to her, and she could not have been filled with more joy.

Skip to a week later and the creatures of Grimm had apparently decided they had allowed humanity to survive long enough. Wave after wave of the Black Horde crashed against the walls of every kingdom, the outlying villages having been swept away like dust by a maid. Millions died in those first few days, the defenders both from the military and the elite Hunter Corps scrambling to defend the bastions of humans and faunus alike. 3rd and 4th grade students from Beacon and the other Hunter schools were called into action to support the more experienced huntsmen and huntresses, their younger classmates being held in reserve in case any creatures of Grimm might prove stronger than the outer defenses. A foolish notion, perhaps, but one meant to bring about hope to the student body's declining morale.

Being in their last year, teams RWBY and JNPR had been sent to the front lines, expected to hold until android reinforcements from Atlas could arrive. The following weeks were grueling, testing their status as the best teams to grace the Academy in a long time, exhausting their energy even as their hopes of survival diminished.

When the transports fell to the Nevermores, Pyrrha bitterly steeled herself for the end.

It was Jaune who pulled them back. He gave them no illusions of survival, no hope of victory. He did remind them, though, that their responsibility as Hunters was to hold the line against the savage creatures, to buy the innocent time to prepare, and to inspire the defenders to give their all to protect the the people until the last one of them fell.

Jaune had really come a long way from the clumsy boy who had faked his way into Beacon.

Really, Pyrrha always knew he had it in him, from the first time they fought together as a team. He'd grown in both power and skill exponentially, and while the change had been notable before, never before had it been more obvious than now.

-"Damn" –Yang had said, her joking tone betrayed by her exhaustion. "Vomit Boy is good with words. Who knew?"

Pyrrha had known, of course. His team as well; but even they had been surprised by their leader. Jaune may have flushed, but he would always deny it, claiming the armor made him hot.

Two full months, they lasted. They took shifts, fought smarter and harder, kept the area they were responsible for mostly unmarred. They knew, however, they were at their limit. Injuries started to become commonplace, tactics would become much more difficult to execute. Nora's left leg was broken, so she stuck to grenade launching. Ren suffered a few nasty cuts. Pyrrha's shield, Akoúo̱, broke after she was forced to block a sting from a Deathstalker, and Pyrrha herself had become covered in cuts and bruises as a result of losing most of her defending capability. Ruby lost an eye to an Alpha Beowulf, Weiss looking even more distraught at the event than the younger girl's own sister. The Ice Queen herself got her left arm completely disabled after a Nevermore raked its talons across her back, mangling her shoulder joints and nerve endings. Ruby had been unconscious then, so she hadn't known. Blake had narrowly avoided becoming impaled by Nevermore feathers, at the expense of a broken wrist, nearly bitten off by a Creeper. Yang seemed uninjured, but the way she shouted her throat out whenever her semblance faded suggested otherwise. They would later learn that her knuckles were completely broken, and that she'd been fighting that way for weeks.

Jaune was the only one largely unscathed. They should've known it couldn't last.

Pyrrha should've seen it coming. A particularly large Beowulf had managed to hide itself behind five of its smaller brethren, four of them felled by Pyrrha and Jaune in seconds. The fifth one threw itself on her, forgoing all pretense of a coordinated pack attack. Pain erupted all over her body, as she felt her armor buckle under the vicious assault of the monster now trying to rip her head from her shoulders. A quick glance sideways confirmed what she had counted on, though, so she mustered all her force and punched the wolf-like creature square in the jaw, straight into a decapitation courtesy of a horizontal strike from Crocea Mors.

That's when she saw the big one. The abnormally large Beowulf did not waste his chance, the strong jaws closing around her husband-to-be's still outstretched arm. The strangled scream that inevitably followed would haunt her for decades after the fact. The blood gushing from the socket of the torn arm would break her down every night for months after the fact. Surprisingly, even after being tossed around like a ragdoll, Jaune still managed to crawl to his sword, just in time to stab the pouncing beast through its skull. Pyrrha managed to get out of her shock and kicked the slowly dissolving corpse of the creature. Jaune blinked at her, gasping for air. He managed a shaky smile and said:

-"Sorry, Pyrrha. I think I'm going to have to wear my ring on the wrong hand…" –he promptly blacked out, leaving Pyrrha crying silently, her trained mind overcoming the horror of what she was about to do: she tore what remained of her sash off, and walked over to the blonde's disembodied arm, taking the undercloth and using it along with the sash to attempt to stop Jaune from bleeding out.

She barely recognized the humming of cannons charging above, meaning air support had finally come. She didn't dare take her eyes away from the ragged breathing pattern of her boyfriend, barely noticing Nora approaching, using Magnhild as a crutch, Ren helping her along, a solemn expression on both of their faces.

Sometime after their ill-timed rescue, General Ironwood personally apologized to her, claiming he couldn't divert his resources for mere students when it was apparent they were doing well for some time. He had the greater good to think of. Pyrrha had completely lost it.

-"With all due respect, General, your drones are replaceable. For Dust's sake, even my shield, our equipment, it can be replaced. But what about Ruby's eye? What's your excuse for Weiss losing a part of her motor skills? Yang's knuckles are dust because you wouldn't see our desperation. Nora's leg might be lost, and Jaune's arm _is_ lost. My greatest hero, and the love of my life, and I nearly lost him because you didn't give a damn about us. So no, General, I won't accept your apology. If you really want to make up to us, stop stockpiling your damn robots and unleash them where they're needed. Lot of good they did us in the stratosphere." –she'd stormed off, leaving Ironwood stupefied. The calm redhead had turned as dangerous as the fiery shade her hair took. Pyrrha would never forgive General Ironwood, especially not after it was revealed he only had Atlas' best interests at heart, sending reinforcements to the other kingdoms without escorts or with very light ones, doomed to fail against the Nevermore flocks. He would be court martialed and imprisoned after the War of Survival, which lasted a grand total of seven months. Thirty percent of Remnant's population would be lost in that time, Vacuo nearly falling, if not for the aid Vale sent when their defenses were suitably bolstered.

And teams JNPR and RWBY had been at the head of that movement to take back the desperate kingdom. Jaune and Pyrrha would marry immediately after the war, their teammates turning a blind eye to the fact that Pyrrha's belly was slightly swollen. Six months later, Lyra Arc would be born, and with her, a new age of prosperity and safety for the people of Remnant.

_PRESENT_

-"That, my dear, is a story for another time, I'm afraid. These old bones need their rest, and you need to keep your mother company." –she said, the memories weighing on her.

-"Aww grandma, but I wanna know what's next! And why was your dress tight? Did you eat a whole bunch to celebrate grandpa's cool new arm? –the girl asked, both disappointed and excited. Kids could be so odd, she thought.

-"Ah, child. There was celebration, alright, though I think you may have to wait a few years before your mother can explain what kind." –she said, her cheeks slightly red from the memories.

-"Ok, grandma. I'll go see mommy. I'll ask her about it; maybe she'll tell me!" –she said, her momentary sadness passed. She skipped merrily up the stairs. Reckless child, she should be more careful she thought. Then again, she seemed to be clumsy even when exercising caution, so it was useless to chide her. She smiled thinking just how much Lyra would be in trouble, answering incessant questions about her parents' love life.

-"That's a fairly impressive story, you know. I would've exaggerated it and made my arm fall to _at least_ a King Taijitu, so you get a penalty for lack of ridiculousness, but it was still really cool to listen to." –a rough, chuckling voice called in a low volume.

-"Yes, well, you were always the better storyteller. I'm afraid I never had your penchant for flair, dear husband." –she said, with a smirk. Jaune stirred from his seat and walked over to his wife, kissing her lightly. Then he winked at her, and began humming. Pyrrha felt her weariness fade momentarily, a boon from whoever was up there watching them.

-"The lighting is not ideal, and I'd rather have actual music, but a bit of dancing is very much called for right now. Would you do me the honor, Mrs. Nikos? –he said, charming as always.

Pyrrha laughed like she had the first time they danced, at that ball in their first year. Back when she'd truly decided he was the one.

-"My, my, an honored veteran calls for my hand. I'd love to Mr. Arc. Though I will warn you, I'm not as good a dancer as you are rumored to be." –she took his hand and they started a slow waltz. Jaune's eyes filled with mirth.

-"Ah, don't fret. It tends to happen when you grow _and_ age with seven sisters, four daughters and three and a half granddaughters. Besides, I'm not much for rumors. A beautiful woman turned me into a man of action, and I'd really love to show her what I can do." –he said, his tone smooth.

Pyrrha couldn't help but smile into the kiss that followed. And a certain pregnant lady couldn't help but grin at the occasional glints coming from the two rings on the wrong hands.

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><p><strong>What did you think? I really, really loved writing this. It took about 5 hours, too, so I'm pretty proud of how it turned out. Shoot me a review if you can, so I know how I'm doing! Thank you all! - Darthkvzn<strong>


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